Nothing But a Hood
by tiffany59
Summary: 'They were right, Heather's friends were right. Ponyboy was nothing but a hood, he had 'Juvenile delinquent' written all over his face.' Ponyboy was crushing on a girl who looked good in yellow. Can a blade change it all? What happens after the incident?
1. Chapter 1: Introduction

"Nothing But a Hood"

Introduction

**A/N: Just something to cure my writer's block. It isn't fancy sushi served on a silver plater, but it's something, right? If I continue this, then Dally and Johnny will be alive, since Ponyboy met this 'Good looking girl in yellow' before. Uh, review, I guess!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Outsiders, nor will I ever!**

She strolled down the dusty hallway, the clattering of her heels echoing in the distance. Not a soul was adjacent, as she scurried to open her locker and go to class. This was the third time the girl was tardy to school, due to her mom's inability to wake her up. She took her time, trying to remember her combination.

_23...19...4...Click_

Wobbling her lock, she yanked it out of place, breaking the recently bought device. Now she has to remind herself later to go buy another. She threw the lock on the hard floor, letting it make a loud _clot_ sound. Just as the girl closed her locker, one of her friends, Sheila, walked right past her, not noticing her struggling friend.

Sheila then spun on her heels, walking up to her friend. "Hey, Heather! I see you broke your lock...again."

"Yeah, I don't know how I manage to do it." Heather leaned against her locker. "How was cheer leading practice, yesterday?"

"It went well." She smiled. "Are you coming after school? Cherry really wants you there."

Heather nodded, moving away from her locker. "Of course, I have no other choice, now do I?"

"Nope! I'll see you at lunch, ok?" Sheila began to walk but stopped halfway. "Oh, don't bring a book for Pre-Calculus. We have a substitute. Bye!"

With that, she wandered the rest of the halls, leaving her friend at her locker. Heather forced her locker open, threw the book inside, and slammed it shut. The words, "You could've told me that sooner," came out of her lips as she proceeded to her class. Pre-Calculus was one of her best subjects, since she was passing it with an 83.

As she entered the class, everyone was silently doing their work. The substitute noticed her presence, handing her a sheet of paper while she walked to her seat. Heather gently took the paper, sitting down in her regular seat near the window. She took a look at her paper, and her eyes seemed to pop out of her head.

"What is the slope of the line that passes through the points (9, -7)?" She read, disbelief in her voice. "What is this, Algebra 2?"

Kathryn, the girl next to her, rolled her eyes. Heather didn't really like her, because Kathryn thought she could pass anything with looks and popularity.

"Since when did you get so smart?" Kathryn asked.

Heather shrugged. "It just came to me." She lied, not wanting to admit she was given help by a greaser a few months back. As if on cue, a certain greenish-grey eyed greaser entered the class with a late pass.

When the teacher handed him the work-sheet, he spotted Heather and sent her a warm smile. She gave one back, yet hers was small, fragile. Ponyboy wanted to say a simple hello, but didn't have the courage. He sat behind her, and tried hard not to stare.

It was true, Ponyboy Curtis was a little infatuated with her, and Heather couldn't stop thinking how irresistible his eyes were. But they kept that to themselves, knowing that hell would break loose if anyone knew. Ponyboy grasped a random pencil from his pocket, and began doing his work-sheet.

On the other hand, Heather started to fidget with a string that happened to stick out of her green blouse. She smoothed the speckles of eraser shavings off of her khaki skirt, and anticipated for the bell to ring. Even though Pre-Calculus was on of her best classes, it was also the most boring. And she couldn't wait for lunch, so she could gossip with her friends.

_Bringg...Bringg...Bring...B-Bringg..._

Once the bell rung, everyone rushed out the door. Ponyboy packed up his stuff, his stomach grumbling as he the thought of food entered his mind. While he went to leave the classroom, he bumped into Heather. They both immediately backed up, embarrassed by their actions. Ponyboy let Heather go first, earning him a thank you.

As Ponyboy walked the opposite direction, Heather continued walking to the cafeteria. She already felt heat rush up to her cheeks, realizing this was the first time she had blushed this hard. On her way, she stopped by the water fountain, and splashed her face with water. She suddenly felt cool enough to head back.

At the cafeteria, everybody was scattered all over the place. Usually, the middle-class sat on one side, Socs on the other, and the greasers took the left overs. Not feeling hungry, she speed walked to her friends, who decided to sit in the middle of the cafe. They all patted a sit for her.

"So what's the latest?" Asked Sheila, the only blonde of the group.

Rebecca, the oldest red-head grinned. "Ok, so you know that chick, Amy? Well, rumor has it, that her dad got his lawyer's badge take..."

The red-head's words were blocked out in Heather's eyes as she spotted Ponyboy walking past her table. This time, he sent her a toothy grin, and she shyly waved back at him. Someones hand was placed on Heather's shoulder, causing her to jump. It was none other than her first, and best friend, Caroline.

"Now what do we have here?" Caroline asked, smirking. "I told you to stop eyeing that greaser, didn't I?"

Heather sighed. "Come on, he ain't a bad guy. He's helped me before, and I haven't seen anything bad."

"That's what they want you to think." Rebecca picked the dirt out of her nails. "One second they're nice, then the next..Bam! They pull a blade."

"Becky..."

Sheila got up from her seat. "Heather, come with me to get lunch?"

She stood up and shrugged. "Might as well."

Both girls grabbed their pocketbooks and left to the lunch line. On their way, Christina, another one of those snobby girls and her friends, bumped into Heather. They dropped all of their food on her, smudging everything on purpose. Heather stood there in shock, not knowing what to do. When Christina stopped, she backed up.

"Oops, sorry." She said with a sarcastic tone. Her and her posse walked away, giggling as they did so.

"Yeah, real funny Tina!" Sheila shouted. She guided her friend out of the cafeteria, and into the nearest bathroom, which was exactly next to the cafeteria.

Inside, Sheila took out a pair of extra clothes for Heather. The brunette looked at the clothes given to her, and smiled as she inspected the color of them. It was one of her favorite colors. Yellow. She rushed into the stall, and tried to put the clothes on. Silence filled the restroom as neither girl spoke.

"Why'd you have extra clothes in your bag?" The brunette asked from inside the stall.

Her friend thought about it, not knowing why she did. "I...honestly don't know. I just had a feeling."

Heather waltzed out of the stall, looking like a ball of sunshine. "Good thing, I don't know what I would've done without you."

Taking out a bottle of lip gloss, Heather spread some around her lips. She mushed her lips together, creating a squishing noise that caused her friend to start laughing. Soon enough, they both started laughing.

"You really are a Soc." Her friend laughed.

Heather smiled. "And I'm proud of it."

"Did I mention you look great in yellow? It's the first time I've seen you in it."

The bell rang as Heather gave a thanks. She grabbed Sheila's hand and they both headed outside. "Lets go, I have Biology next."

* * *

Before the bell rung again, Heather sat down in any random seat. To her luck, she had seated herself next to Ponyboy, who was twirling a piece of his hair. Heather tried not to make a scene, so she looked ahead, and focused on the board. She began to mess with the yellow lint on her shirt. Ponyboy noticed her sitting next to him, and spoke up.

"Hi, Heather." Ponyboy said quietly.

She turned to him. "Oh, hello Ponyboy."

Her voice sent shivers down Ponyboy's spine as he smiled at her. Indeed, they've talked before, but this time it felt different for the both of them. Minutes later, their biology teacher Mr. Byrd arrived. Both teenagers grimaced when their teacher told them they had to dissect a worm.

He passed out the supplies to each table, making sure there was enough for everyone. All they were given were plates, a worm, a razor, napkins, and a cup of hydrogen peroxide. Ponyboy picked up the razor and tried desperately to cut the worm open. Failing, he dug into his pocket for his only solution.

As Heather went to grab a paper from her notebook, the young greaser pulled out a six inch blade from his pocket. The glint of the blade was the only thing the girl saw when she turned to face the boy. His stomach began to twist as he saw the look of horror that was plastered across the girl's face. Ponyboy started to stutter, but was lost for words.

The brunette didn't know what came over her. Everything happened too fast for her to gather her thoughts together. And that one line her friend said during lunch kept replaying in her head.

_"That's what they want you to think." ... "One second they're nice, then the next..Bam! They pull a blade."_

Frustrated she leaped out of her seat. "They are right. You are a hood!"

The bell rung once the words left the girls mouth. Realizing what she had said, she ran out the room, leaving poor Ponyboy to be laughed at by a group of Socs. She knew what she said was wrong, and she hated herself for it. Heather thought Ponyboy would hate her now. Ponyboy got up to look for her, to apologize to her, but she was no where in sight. Nothing could be done to change anything.

To Heather, Ponyboy was just like any other hood who was growing up on the wrong side of life. He was a delinquent to her at this moment.

Nothing but a hood.

**A/N: So how was it? I mean, It ain't anything special. Should I continue? Tell me if I should, this was only going to be a one-shot for my writers block. What do y'all think? I do appreciate ideas :) Well, R&R!**


	2. Chapter 2

"Nothing But A Hood"

Chapter 1

**A/N: I want to thank everyone who has reviewed! I decided to continue this for you guys, and I hope y'all enjoy it! Like I said before, it isn't anything fancy, so don't expect something big and dramatic like 'Romeo and Juliet.' Anyways, please read and review! I'll have the second chapter up shorty!**

**Disclamier: The Outsiders will never be mine!**

**P.S. : Who said 'The girl who looked good in yellow,' always wore yellow and only had biology with Ponyboy? :))**

After school, things weren't easy for the two teenagers, either. Coincidentally, Heather had cheer leading practice, and Ponyboy had track. Outside at the baseball field, the cheerleaders where doing flips, trying the do their best. Yet, the brunette couldn't do it, as the event that took place about an hour ago re-entered her mind. If only she could find a way to apologize to him, so her guilt would go away.

Just as the girl saw Ponyboy run past her, an hand grabbed her by the arm. Alarmed, Heather quickly spun her head, and saw Sheila smiling at her. Heather raised an eyebrow in curiosity.

"Come on." Sheila urged. "We need to do role calls."

Heather, groaning, followed Sheila's lead. To the brunette, role calls were totally pointless. The fact that you have to find something that rhymes with your name doesn't make sense. Unfortunately, Cherry thinks it's a great idea, so they do it anyways.

The girl went into place, waiting for the captain to start. One by one the girls said their names and a sentence that rhymed with it, followed by some sort of flip. Heather reluctantly went up, waiting for her turn to come up. When it did, she stood straight.

"My name's Heather, it rhymes with feather." She did a cartwheel to her left, but the fierce winds blew her off balance, causing her to accidentally kick a football at one of the football players. Heather watched as the guy staggered and bumped into Ponyboy. Luckily, they both fell down on grass.

The brunette ran to the scene, gasping as she saw the both of them on the ground. Yet the only one who caught her attention was Ponyboy. Maybe this was her chance to apologize.

Before she got to do anything, Donna, one of the cheerleaders, grabbed her arm. "Let's go! We're almost done, they'll be fine."

Heather nodded, but soon felt bad as Ponyboy stared at her while she walked away.

* * *

The next day, Ponyboy sat away from Heather during art. He thought it would be better if they weren't next to each other. Everyone sat in their seats, silence instantly filling the room as the teacher walked in.

"Good evening class." Mrs. Rome walked up to her desk. "Today I want you guys to paint something you hate, with shapes."

Caroline raised her hand. "Anything?"

The teacher nodded. "Yes, dear."

Everyone pondered what they hated the most. Heather looked around to find any idea, yet did not find one. Caroline painted a picture of a spider, very simple. The girl next to her, Bonnie, painted a leather jacket.

That seemed to spark an idea in the brunette's mind, and she reached for the liquefied, metallic grey paint bottle. She started with a triangle for the tip, and rectangles for the rest. It was meant to be a sword, but with the height, it became some sort of blade.

"You hate blades? Me too!" The girl next to her commented.

Embarrassed, Heather smiled and continued to paint. It was only suppose to be a sword. Two rows behind her, Ponyboy stared at her picture. He had a feeling the painting was about him, because of the whole incident in Biology. A frown appeared on his face, as he continued to paint something he hated...bologna.

**-^o^-**

"So before the Declaration of Independence, there was a Revolutionary War, correct?" Mr. Smith, the history teacher, asked.

Most of the class got up from their naps and turned to the teacher. "Yes."

The teacher clasped his hands together. "And again, what were the Patriots fighting for?"

"Independence..."

"Good," he tapped on Heather's desk. "Quick, what are hired soldiers who fought for pay?

Heather raised an eyebrow. "Mercenaries...?"

Mr. Smith nodded. He walked over to another student. "David...one thing that led to the Revolution?"

"The Boston Massacre!"

Smiling, the teacher walked up to his board. He split one side in half and put, 'Team one' and 'Team two'. Then he came back to the class, wiping the chalk off of his hands. Counting all the kids in the class, Mr. Smith smiled.

"We have an even class today." He split the whole class in half. "We're going to play a game. The team with the most points at the end wins."

Everyone in the class cheered, Heather herself was quite pleased. Yet, before she got to start, a certain red haired Soc entered the class. She went up to Mr. Smith, who looked straight at Heather.

"Miss Heather, you are needed by this student."

Cherry looked at Heather, folding a piece of her hair behind her ear. "I'm sorry, Heather. But I need those papers for the coach."

The brunette nodded, getting up. She had nearly forgot about those papers, but then remembered why she bought a lock. Heather combed through her hair with her fingers. She gasped as her fingers almost got stuck.

_'I so have to get my hair done...'_ Heather thought.

**-^o^-**

"Wow, Heather." Cherry shook her head as she grinned. "You broke your lock...again."

"That's it!" She screeched. "I'm stealing one of William's locks."

She jammed her locker open and skimmed through her stuff. She pulled out a folder and handed it to Cherry. The red-head smiled and gave Heather a quick hug.

"Are you going to the game tomorrow?" Cherry asked.

"Yeah." She sighed. "I guess I'll call you later?"

Cherry nodded, turning on her heels and walking the opposite way. Just as the brunette was going bak to her class, the bell began to ring. She groaned, remembering that her classes were mixed up today. Walking to the lunch room, she heard someone call her 'Nickname'.

"Muffin!"

Heather turned around and saw Rebecca walking towards her. Heather felt the blood rush to her face as she heard muffin. It was the nickname her friends gave her, after finding out she loved all types of muffins. She preferred muffins instead of cupcakes.

"Becky!" Heather whined. "I told you not to call me that anymore."

Rebecca laughed. "I'm sorry...Muffin." She grabbed Heather's arm and led her somewhete. "Gosh, I hate this. My schedule is all messed up."

The brunette rolled her eyes, and followed her friend. "I know, I haven't seen Pony-" She stopped, realizing what she had just said.

_'Was I just about to say Ponyboy? What is wrong with me today?' _She thought. _'I really need to stop thinking about yesterday.'_

Heather's friend turned around. "You haven't seen who?"

"I-I...I haven't seen P-Paul all day." Heather made up any name to cover up what she said a few seconds ago.

The red-head shook her head. "Paul doesn't go to school anymore. He graduated, remember?"

"I was...I was talking about another Paul!" Heather let herself go and walked ahead of her friend. She took a deep breath, glad that she had tricked her friend.

**-^o^-**

"Alright, class. Put everything away, you have a Biology test today." Mr. Byrd began passing them out.

Half the class groaned in response. So did Heather, because she was too lazy. Next to her, Ponyboy sat quietly, twirling a pencil between his fingers. All he wanted to do was go to track practice, then go home.

He took a glance at Heather, noticing she wasn't wearing yellow anymore. Instead, she wore a color identical, like the inside of an Asian Starfruit. Though, he couldn't help but realize how beautiful yellow suited her, no matter what shade it was. He regained his focus when Mr. Byrd set his timer.

Heather finished half of the test easily, it was only about the characteristics of all living things. It was based on yesterday's lab, but Ponyboy and Heather got cut off.

Seconds before the bell rang, Mr. Byrd collected everyone's test. Heather decided she would help the teachers out today, since she didn't have practice. Maybe she can go into the detention room and speak to one of her friends.

Everybody ran out of the classroom like a stampede when the bell rang. Heather walked up to Mr. Byrd, and tapped him on his shoulder. He responded and smiled to her.

"Hello, Heather. Is there a problem?"

She shook her head. "No, I was wondering if I could help out again today. You know, since I did well the last time."

The biology teacher gave it some thought. "Well, it would keep you out of street trouble...Eh, I'll allow it. You can go to the detention room again."

Excited, Heather clapped her hands together and left the room. She often had fun talking to the kids in detention. That was her job anyways, she was to talk to the kid's in detention and ask them why they were there. Teachers thought it would be better if the kids spoke to someone in their age group.

The brunette took a left at the cafeteria, and went straight into the room. Yet, when she made it inside, she was disappointed. In front of her, was one of the greasers people talk about in school. She never spoke to him in person, but she had seen him around.

Sighing, she sat as far away from him as possible.

"Hey!" He shouted. "You're that Muffin girl!"

Heather laid her head on her left hand, her eyes not moving off of him. "Hello...Two-Bit."


	3. Chapter 3

"Nothing But A Hood"

Chapter 3

**Wow, I just want to thank everyone for their reviews! I love each and every one of them and I hope you guys continue to follow this story until the end! Enjoy this loooong chapter, and please read and review! Hope you guys have a Merry Christmas!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Outsiders. I only own Heather, and all of the other OC characters :)**

Two-Bit lifted his legs and rested them on the desk across from him. This wasn't his first time in detention, he basically lived there. Heather recalled having a talk with him a week and a half ago. When she volunteered, she'd be assigned to ask the students why they ended up in detention. And his answer was always the same, day after day.

Heather grasped a pen from her pencil. "Ok, so why are you in here?"

He shrugged, giving his regular reply. "I had nothin' better to do. Thought if I stood here, I could pick Pony up from track."

The brunette felt her stomach tighten at the mention of Ponyboy. She had totally forgotten that Two-Bit hung out with Ponyboy a lot. Heather had only seen Ponyboy with a tall, skinny tan boy. Heather shrugged, and put her pencil behind her ear. She saw no need in questioning him anymore.

"So Two-Bit, do all of you greasers own blades?" Heather asked as she remembered the incident in Biology. "Just out of curiosity."

Two-Bit lifted his feet of the chair, looking at the clock. "Pretty much, 'cept Ponyboy. He only brought one to school 'cause of Socs."

Heather couldn't help but feel a little offended by what he said. "What about Socs?"

"Chill out, little Miss Muffin." He grinned at her, his grayish eyes turning serious. "He got jumped by some Socs the other week."

She stood silent, unable to find the right words to say. She had heard of the things Socs did to greasers, but who would do such a thing to Ponyboy? He had a reason to bring a blade, but Heather had quickly jumped to conclusions.

"O-Oh, I'm...I'm sorry. I never knew." Heather thought it would be good to apologize.

Two-Bit shook his head. "Nah, it wasn't your fault." For some reason, he let out a sigh. "His brother told him to carry a blade just in case, ya know?"

She nodded, taking a deep breath. "Yeah, I understand. Does he still carry it?"

He shrugged, leaning back in his chair. "I don't know. When he came back from school yesterday, he yelled saying the blade made things worse."

_'That was all my fault!'_ Heather screamed in her mind as she brought her face to her hands. _'I shouldn't have lashed at him like that.'_

Heather felt extremely horrible. If only she knew why he had the blade in the first place, she would still be talking to Ponyboy. But now that she knew, there was one thing she needed to do.

Apologize to Ponyboy.

* * *

**The Next Day**

"Sheila, you cheater!" Caroline laughed out as the blonde tried to peak inside the orange envelope.

The blonde quickly jumped back and giggled. "Come on, Caroline! I want to know who was the killer!"

Heather laughed at her friends as she picked up the game box that was on the cafeteria table. Lunch was usually boring for the teens, so they decided to play a round of board game 'Clue'. Sheila was Professor Plum, Caroline was Mrs. Peacock, Rebecca was the Reverend Green, and Heather was Mrs. White.

It was Rebecca's turn to roll the dice. She ended up in the study. "Hm...I suggest it was Mrs. Peacock in the Ballroom with the rope."

Heather shook her head, and since she was on Rebecca's left, she showed her a card. "Sorry, Becky."

Rebecca smiled as she snapped her fingers. Heather went next, thinking that she had enough prove to make an accusation. She slowly moved her supect and the weapon in the chosen room.

"I accuse the Reverend Green in the Lounge with the revolver." She said confidently, as she slowly opened the envelope. Once the cards were out, she was in complete shock.

Donna skipped to the table, taking a seat next to the red-head. "Hey girls!" Her eyebrow raised when she looked at Heather. "Did you lose?"

Heather grinned, throwing the cards flat on the table. One card was a picture of the Lounge, one was Reverend Green, and the other was a revolver. The other girls shouted in surprise and threw their cards on the table also. The brunette couldn't help but giggle.

"You finally won, Heather." Caroline smirked. "How did you know it was the Reverend Green?"

Heather shrugged. "I just thought that he could've had drugs or a gun in that suitcase of his."

All of the girls looked at each other for a quick second, and started laughing their heads off.

"So, have you been talking to that greaser?" Rebecca asked Heather. "You know, the one you were eyeing last time?"

The brunette shook her head. "I...I haven't seen him in awhile."

"How come?" Asked Donna. "You guys are basically in every class, and he hardly misses school."

"Well, you se-"

Heather was cut off short by the sound of the bell ringing. She quickly smiled at herself and hurried out the cafeteria. Next period was her last one for today, Biology.

Ponyboy stared at the piece of paper in front of him. Today, the class was assigned a lab where they had to the temperature of water. It was pretty easy, and Ponyboy and Heather were almost done. All they had to do was clean the test tubes.

Yet, Heather was still shaken about about yesterday. Ever since Two-Bit told her Ponyboy's reason for carrying a blade, she felt nervous around him. She wouldn't look at him, or even give him one little glance. And apologizing seemed to be more impossible by the minute. She jumped to conclusions, and she made him feel like a hood.

As the brunette went the grab one of the test tubes, Ponyboy's hand accidentally touched hers. The touch caused a spark that made her drop the test tube on the floor. Heather's eyes widened and she gasped as the test tube split into pieces. She sighed, her face pink of embarrassment while some of the class silently laughed.

"I-I'm sorry." Ponyboy told her.

She shook her head, bending down to pick up the pieces. "No, it's ok. It was my fault for being so clumsy."

He sighed and helped pick up some pieces. "Really, I'll help. It was kind of my fault anyway."

"Thanks, Ponyboy." Heather grinned, still picking up the pieces. "You're too nice."

Ponyboy glanced up to her, and for the first time in two days...

...He smiled at her.

* * *

**After School: Football/Track Home Game**

"Hey, hey, get out of our way! Today's the day we're going to blow you away! Whooo!" The cheerleaders chanted.

Some one the girls did cartwheels, while the rest did front flips. Since most of it was practiced, it was quite easy. But Heather was still worried about falling down and spraining her ankle in one of the jumps.

Heather and the cheerleading team rushed all together as the school football team made their way to the field. The audience went loud and cheered for them. Then when the rivalry football team came, half the crowd booed, while the others cheered. Cherry, Donna, and Heather sighed when the opposing team's cheerleading team showed up.

They looked like the most snobbiest girls ever. Their uniform was a very tight, blue and gold dress with the initials N.T. for North Tulsa High School. Nothing too fancy, but they looked better than the yellow and white outfit's Cherry's team wore. The crowd went wild as the game started.

"Touchdown, touchdown, touchdown boys!" The opposing cheerleaders chanted. "You make the touchdowns, we make the noise! Yay!"

Everyone watched in anticipation as number twenty-three grabbed the ball from one of the N.T. players. He managed to swerve around, and make a touchdown for the team. Heather cheered as she did a quick back flip. Back with her team, she smirked as she heard their next cheer.

She got into position in front of one of the cheerleaders named Kathleen, who was the youngest. She smiled back at Heather, who nodded at Cherry. This was going to be Heather's first time performing this dangerous stunt at a game. Even if she had practiced it many times, she went queasy thinking about it. Heather's stunt was to be thrown up in the air. But she worried someone wouldn't catch her.

They began their cheer. "Sugar and cream, sugar and cream." The front half of team chanted. "What's the matter with the other team?"

The front half of the team did a back flip, and the other half did a front flip so they were in front. This meant Heather was in the stuck in the front of the team.

The cheer continued. "Nothing at all, nothing at all. They just cannot play football!"

Kathleen threw Heather in the air, and the brunette felt her stomach tighten while she was in the air. Her adrenaline was pumping, and she felt a little thrill inside of her. When she landed down safetly, she sighed in relief and skipped back to her spot.

This made the audience boom with cheers, and the oppsite cheerleaders sent them a boo. Heather and Donna couldn't help but high-five each other, and laugh at everyone's reactions.

**=^o^=**

Sadly, the team had lost to North Tulsa High School 16 to 20. No one had a problem with it though, well, except for the football team itself. Now all was left was the Track game, and Ponyboy was competing. Heather walked away from the other cheerleaders and strolled around. She wanted to take a deep breath before the next game.

As she continued forward, she saw a certain greaser tying his shoe. Heather it her bottom lip as she stared at him. She really needed to apologize to him, and now would be the perfect oportunity to do so.

_'It's now or never.'_ She thought. _'I choose...uqh! I can't do it, not now. Maybe if I-'_

"Oh, um, hi Heather." A voice broke her thoughts.

She quickly looked up, and her heart raced as she saw who it was. "H-Hey Ponyboy. Nice game, huh?"

He nodded, leaning against one of the gates. "Yeah, too bad they lost."

Heather slowly walked next to him and rested her arm on the gate. Maybe know was a good time. "Listen, Ponyboy, about two days ago. I'm sorry."

"It was my fault, ya know? I shouldn't have pulled out the blade." He sheepishly smiled.

The brunette sighed, leaning her head back. "No, seriously. I mean, I'm sure you had a reason to have one. I just over-reacted, it's what I do."

"Well, I'd be lying if I said it wasn't." Ponyboy grinned, earning him a playful slap on the arm by Heather.

She stepped away from the gate. "It's true, and I wasn't sure how to apologize. I was never good with words..."

Ponyboy chuckled. "How about we both forgive each other?"

"Ok, I'd like that." She extended her arm, and he gave her a handshake. "I should get going before they start wondering where I am. Good luck."

She waved at Ponyboy before skipping off. Heather couldn't help but smile to herself, as she felt happy. Apologizing was worth it after all. No more awkward moments in classes anymore.

**=^o^=**

The cheerleaders chanted as the racers ran for the goal. They were already twelve feet from the goal, and the crowd was cheering for each racer. The track team was mostly made up of middle-classes, five Socs, and three greasers. Yet, the team was really big.

At the end, a middle-class boy named James won first place. Ponyboy won second, and another middle-class boy won third. All three walked in the center of the field, and it was up for the cheerleaders to give them their medals. Kathleen looked over at the girls, smiled, and nodded. The team then smiled, and screamed while heading towards the three winners.

Most of the cheerleaders flipped their way over, the rest skipped. They shook their pom-poms all over the place, giggling as they did so. The cheerleading captain, Cherry, placed a medal on the first place winner. One of the cheerleaders placed a medal on the third place winner, and another one placed the last medal around Ponyboy's neck.

While the cheerleaders were walking away, Heather waited until they were a few feet away and turned to Ponyboy.

"Congratulations, greaser." She said to him, secretly smiling.

...He smiled back.

**I really hope y'all enjoyed this chapter. I didn't want to rush anything with Heather and Ponyboy. They aren't going to automatically start dating like in some fics. I want their relationship to flow naturally, and not be rushed. Please read and review and I hope you guys have a very Merry X-mas!**


	4. Chapter 4

"Nothing But A Hood"

Chapter 4

**A/N: Hey guys, your reviews really made me happy, and I hope you continue to review! I hope you guys had a wonderful New Year, and may good luck follow you. Here's chapter 4, please enjoy and tell me what y'all think!**

Ponyboy stood in his seat, his glued to the sheet of paper in front of him. His pen was moving swiftly across the paper, but nothing good came out of it. For English, Mr. Syme wanted the class to write an essay on someone they care about, and how that person influenced their lives. Then he wanted them to do something creative to go with the essay, like a picture or drawing.

Yet, Ponyboy was having a hard time. There were a lot of people he cared about...everyone in the gang. But if he had to choose one person, it would be too difficult, like he was choosing one person over the other.

_'I don't think it'd be fair.'_ He thought to himself._ 'Maybe I should do it on my pet rock.'_

Sitting next to the window, the sun's light beamed onto Ponyboy, making the grease on his hair glisten. He repeatedly tapped his pencil onto his chin, his greenish-gray eyes filled with determination. He slowly raised his hand up, waiting for the teacher to respond. Mr. Syme glanced at Ponyboy and gave him a quick nod.

"Yes, Ponyboy?" The teacher asked.

Ponyboy gently placed his pencil on the desk. "Well, um, what if we care about more than one person?"

There were a lot of students saying,_ 'yeah' _and _'that's a good question.'_

Mr. Syme quickly exhaled before slightly pacing around. "You kids can write about them, only if you guys promise to do a good job."

"Promise!" Most of the class shouted as they continued to work.

A small smile appeared on Ponyboy's lips while he grasped his ballpoint pen. Now, he could finally get a few good words on his paper. He started off with, _'I care about a lot of people in this world,' _but he simply crossed it all out.

This really is a difficult task.

**- o(^o^)o -**

_'Ugh, why couldn't this essay be on our favorite food?' _The brunette asked in her mind._ 'I would get an A-'_

Heather tried hard to focus on her essay, but tended to get distracted by any little thing. It not that she wasn't interested, she was just confused about the whole thing. Who would she pick? Picking her mother and father wouldn't be very original.

Then, quickly, she got an idea of who to pick for her essay. It was the one person she knew from the back of her hand. She would always be there for him when he needed her.

She decided to do her report on her five year old brother, Matthew. Heather already had an idea of what to write down on her paper. She grabbed the green pencil from behind her ear, and slowly began to write her essay. When nothing came to mind, she quickly glanced up at Ponyboy, who sat across the room from her. He was biting his lower lip, as if he were thinking hard.

_'Stop staring!' _Heather thought to herself. _'You need to focus. Your essay is on Matthew, not Ponyboy!'_

Heather leaned her head forward, laying it on the desk. She groaned as her idea slipped out of her mind. Mr. Syme...was a cruel teacher.

* * *

Rebecca sighed, picking up a card and moving her blue pawn three spaces forward. She then pointed at Caroline, who picked up a card from the pile and taking a red pawn out of S_tart_. She picked up another card, since she got a 2, and moved six spaces forward.

Heather took her yellow pawn, also picking up the card. She secretly smiled to herself as she threw the card on the cafeteria table. "Sorry!"

She bumped Donna's green pawn off the board. Donna crossed her arms over her chest as she pouted. Minutes later, Sheila arrived at the table from the lunch line. The blonde placed her lunch on the table, and shook her head when she saw the _'Sorry!'_ board game laying on the cafeteria table.

"Why do you guys sit at lunch all day playing board games?" Sheila curiously asked. "Don't you guys want to eat lunch?"

The girls took a deep breath, and simultaneously said, "No, not today."

Sheila held her hamburger in her hand tightly, taking a small bite. She suddenly noticed how gloomy the girls looked. "Why the long faces?"

"We get our second progress report today." Rebecca said bluntly.

The blonde froze, some of the greasy, messy contents spilling out of her lunch. "W-we do? Why didn't anyone tell me?"

"We did, Sheila...Just now." Heather mumbled, moving her pawn once again.

Sheila rolled her eyes. "Haha, very funny Muffin."

Heather quietly laughed as she slightly leaned back. All of the girls were honestly afraid of getting their progress reports. The first one is always good, but the second one could change everything. They weren't ready to face their grades.

Before another word was spoken, the twins, Timothy and Tammy, approached the girls' table. The twins were always together, and had a bond that no one could break. If one were to be without the other, they would go hysterical. Rumor has it, that they could feel each others pain.

Good thing the twins were easy to tell apart. Not only were they different genders, but they were also fraternal. The twins weren't that popular, even if they were middle-class, so Caroline and Heather befriended them when they both arrived.

Tammy placed her hands on the edge of the cafeteria table, holding five pink envelopes. "Hello girls."

"Hey, Tammy. What's with the envelopes?" Rebecca asked.

She smiled, handing them out to each girl. "Oh, Friday is me and Timothy's birthday. We wanted to invite you guys to our party.."

Heather opened the envelope carefully, taking out the invitation. The cover said, _'You've been invited!'_ and the inside said:

_You have kindly been invited to a birthday party for: __Timothy and Tammy_

_Date: Friday, January 13th_

_Time: 5:30 p.m. to whenever!_

_Place: 23 Kennedy Rd. Second house on the left_

_RSVP: (918) 714-5672_

Heather closed the invitation and smiled up at Tammy. "Thank you, I'll be happy to come."

Tammy clasped her hands together in front of her. "Really? That's great! What about you guys?"

The girls looked at each other, and sighed in defeat as they saw Tammy's cheerful face. "I guess we're going, too." They said in unison.

"Yes! Thanks so much!" She squealed, grabbing Timothy's hand and skipping off to another table.

The table got quiet, but Donna decided to speak. "I win."

Caroline turned to see all of Donna's pawns at _Home_. She shook her head. "Cheater."

**-o(^o^)o-**

"So, Ponyboy," Timothy said sweetly. "You're coming right?"

"Where?" Ponyboy asked, getting up to throw his food away.

The twin handed him a green envelope. "To my birthday party Friday. I want you to come, you are one of my friends."

Ponyboy shrugged. "Maybe, I'll have to ask my brother Darry first."

"Alright." Timothy nodded understandingly. "If anything, just call."

The greaser nodded, going his own way. As the cafeteria bell rung, he passed by the table Heather was sitting at. He gave her a friendly wave, and she quickly waved back, folding a piece of hair behind her ear.

Once the cafeteria was somewhat clear, Heather stepped closer to Ponyboy. His stomach began to tighten, and a funny feeling appeared in the pit of his stomach. He held his book with one arm, jamming his free hand in his pocket.

Heather cleared her throat a little. "Hey, Ponyboy, do you want to walk to class together? I don't mean walk _together_, I mea- You know, at a little distance."

Suddenly, a grin slowly appeared on Ponyboy's face. "You mean as friends?"

A chuckle escaped Heather's lips. "Y-yeah. If that's ok with you."

"I guess, but we better hurry. The bell rang a minute ago." He mentioned, smiling.

With that, both teens walked to Biology.

* * *

"Ponyboy, be careful! If you put too much pressure it'll bur-"

Heather was cut off when a red liquid squeezed out of the fake frog in front of them. Mr. Byrd gave a fake frog to each group, so they could practice for the real thing. The brunette swore her frog was the only one hemorrhaging.

The brunette stuck out her tongue, making a puking sound as she closed her eyes shut. Heather was grateful that she decided to wear one of the lab aprons today. As Ponyboy reached to cut the frog again, one of the male Socs, Robert, approached them. Both Heather and Ponyboy had a weird feeling in them.

Ponyboy was sure he was going to judge them for working together, or make fun of him. He sighed and took a look at Heather, who was frozen in her seat. Robert stepped closer to Ponyboy, placing his paper on the greaser's desk.

"So greaser, since you're so smart, why don't you help me with this." The Soc pointed to one of the problems.

Ponyboy looked closely at the problem. "You have to find the square root of 16, which is 4. Then add 4 and 3 to the fourth power."

Robert wrote everything down on his paper. "Ok, now what?"

"So now you have 4 plus 81. Your answer is 85, plus the 129 on the side. The total is 214."

The Soc finished writing, and gave Ponyboy a pat on the back. "Thanks, greaser."

Heather sighed in relief as Robert went back and sat down. Her heart was beating fast, and she felt hot, as if she had a fever. She tried to focus again on the lab, and actually finish.

_'Good thing that's all he wanted.' _Heather thought.

The bell rang a few seconds later, causing the brunette to groan in response. In front of her was a half cut frog, waiting to have his intestines ripped out. Ponyboy took off his goggles and apron, putting them to the side.

"Ok class," Mr. Byrd began. "I want you guys to put the frogs in a plastic bag and stick them in the freezer."

All eyes were on him. "Huh?"

He laughed. "It's just a joke. Wrap them up, and I'll take care of them. Oh, and come up for your grades!"

Heather's heart sank when she heard the word 'grades'. She got up slowly from her seat, and waited for the teacher to hand her report over. Once she got the paper, her hand began to tremble in fear. She turned the paper face up, and examined her grades. They all were good, except for two.

_English - 70- Must be more descriptive with her work. Tends to get off topic._

_P.E. -62- Satisfactory effort._

She quickly face-palmed herself. _'A seventy? I'd be more satisfied with a B-. And how can I fail Gym?'_

"So, how are your grades? Are you passing?" Ponyboy asked her.

"I guess you can call it that. Mr. Syme says I need to be more descriptive with my work." Heather said, to embarrassed to tell him she failed Gym.

Ponyboy gently held out his hand, and Heather stared at it. She placed her progress report on it, sighing as she did so.

"You failed Gym?" Ponyboy smirked.

Heather crossed her arms over her chest, the color pink slowly covering her face. "Shut it, it's not my fault."

"Well, I can help you with English today." He told her. "I accidently told my older brother I had track practice today."

Her brown eyes lit up. "Really? Ponyboy, you're such a nice guy. And I have just the place, well, if it's ok with you."

Ponyboy raised an eyebrow to her response.

**A/N: I know, a cliffhanger. Please review, I enjoy them. I also like honest feedback, I don't believe in flames. Flames are just constructive criticism and honest opinions. So review, favorite, alert. Do what you please!**


	5. Chapter 5

"Nothing But A Hood"

Chapter 5

**A/N: Sorry about my long hiatus, everyone! But I'm back, and with summer starting my updates will be a bit more frequent. Also, thank you guys for the reviews, and I hope ya'll enjoy this chapter!**

Minutes later, both teenagers found themselves inside a tolerable library. It was a spacious, debilitated library that was annexed to the northwestern wing of the school. There wasn't anything appealing about the study; which was part of the reason why students scarcely utilized it. Rectangular tables were scattered around, and the remaining spaces were occupied by wooden, chipped bookshelves. Nothing could be heard but the sounds of paper turning and pencils being scraped against paper.

Although the library was fairly secluded today, Heather still felt a bit anxious. The library wasn't very popular with the Socs, but the chances of them being spotted together were still existent. It wasn't even a private library, either, as it was opened to the public during the after school hours. So if a Soc were to see them together after school in public, they'd both have to face dire consequences, especially Ponyboy.

"Are you sure you want to stay here?" Heather asked, antsy, as they stood at the entrance. "I mean, this was just a suggestion."

Ponyboy knew that the female beside him was worried. He couldn't blame her, though, as he himself felt apprehensive about being caught. If they were still in school, it wouldn't have been much of a problem, seeing as they both were Biology partners. Yet this was after school, it was _voluntary_, which made it all the more risky. But Ponyboy promised he'd help Heather with her English; and he disliked breaking promises.

"It'd be ok," Ponyboy replied. The atmosphere engulfing them was tense; neither of them made any type of physical movement. It was as if their distinct social classes kept them glued in their tracks, erecting a border that was not meant to be crossed. Usually, Ponyboy would've obeyed, but today, he thought he'd trespass _just this once_. To erase the tenseness, he mocked, "We can sit, you know, _at a little distance_."

Heather let out a short laugh as she realized he was mocking a statement she had made earlier. "Alright, I guess we can do that."

With the anxiousness in her gradually starting to die out, Heather slowly began to walk towards one of the rectangular tables placed to the left of the library. The brunette sighed, glancing around the library as she walked. There were a few recognizable middle-classers, and about two borderline-Socs that were chatting with each other. That was one good aspect about being a borderline-Soc; talking to the middle-class wasn't as ludicrous as it would be if you were a purebred-Soc.

When Ponyboy made it to the table, he set his books down on the corner, snapping Heather out of her thoughts. Heather stood at the foot of her chair, getting ready to sit down when Ponyboy did something that truly surprised her. He grabbed a hold of his chair and picked it up slightly before placing the chair at the farther end of the table; away from Heather. After that, Ponyboy took a seat and spread out his supplies, and Heather soon followed suit.

Ponyboy was used to being distant; he was a greaser. He grew up on the side of Tulsa where being too dependent on someone could endanger your life. Betrayal was constantly lurking about like a plaque, and identifying who your true friends were was harder than solving a rubix cube. He had grown up by experience; people telling him it was not wise to have _friends_ outside of your main gang. For that reason, Ponyboy had few friends at school.

Heather, on the other hand, was not used to being distanced from others. She was always surrounded by people, socializing. To some she was a Social, that was her label. It wasn't one that she could easily peel off; it was more like a permanent barcode. Heather was usually able to reach out to those she was acquainted with. But when Ponyboy distanced himself from her, she felt just how socially prohibited she was from talking to him. Then and there, she realized that they were much more different than she had ever thought.

"So…" Heather trailed on, breaking the silence that hired the awkward aura. "Have you decided who you're going to write about for your essay?"

Ponyboy twirled his pen around and hesitated to answer. _'She'll probably think I'm a no good hood again.'_

"I was thinkin' that," Ponyboy paused, a sigh escaping his lips, "that I'd write about the gang…you know, the greasers."

The brunette nodded slowly, before curiosity got the best of her and she cautiously blurted it, "How's it like to be…a greaser?"

As soon as the question left her mouth, Heather mentally face-palmed. She hadn't known Ponyboy for that long, and she felt as though she were asking a personal question. Ponyboy, however, was a bit astonished at her sudden question. When they had entered the library, he thought that they were going to pretend not to know each other and then talk about their project in hushed voices. So Ponyboy would be lying if he were to say that it wasn't the least bit pleasing that Heather wasn't pushing him away.

Before Heather got to apologize, Ponyboy answered. "It's tough," he began, "you wake up in the morning not knowin' if you're gonna get jumped, and if so, how badly. Whenever you want to roam the streets, you have to be very aware of your surroundings; so much that you can't even focus on why you were out on the streets to begin with."

Ponyboy sighed as he continued. "People also generalize you so quickly; if a hood or a greaser starts a rumble with someone innocent, all us greasers get the blame. Then you try so hard to fit in, but you're constantly reminded that you're different. As a greaser, you ain't got a lot of friends. You're isolated."

Frowning, Heather stared blankly at the paper in front of her. She wasn't going to sit here and tell him she understood how he felt, because that would've been one of the biggest lies she's ever told. She could only imagine, and not even that was enough.

"You can write that in your essay," Heather suggested, her eyes not leaving the paper as the atmosphere was still a bit awkward and tense.

The greaser nodded his head continuously, taking the idea into consideration. No other words were spoken after that, and both teens refused to look at each other out of fear that they'd get caught. Ponyboy, who had somehow figured out the mold of his essay and how it was going to be shaped, swiftly began writing. In contrast, Heather was constantly crossing out everything she wrote, and a pile of crumbled paper soon appeared next to her.

"Why does this have to be so difficult?" Heather whispered to herself as she proceeded to tap her pen lightly against her paper. She knew _who_ she wanted to write about, but had no clue where to begin. Just when she was close to giving up, Ponyboy opened his mouth.

"How's Soc life?" he asked while he continued to write. He wasn't trying to meddle with her life or anything, but he thought it would help her establish a starting point in her essay. If he had learned anything valuable in Mr. Syme's class, it was that talking about something when writing can gave you enough inspiration to form your outline.

Heather paused thoughtfully as she sat up straight. "It depends on the person," she responded before elaborating. "You gain a sense of pride being a Social; it makes you seem important and prosperous. Some people love being branded as a Social, but others think being a Soc is a massive amount of work. You have to keep up with an image that is practically tattooed on you."

'_How's it possible for people to dislike bein' a Soc?'_ thought Ponyboy as he pressed on. "Do you hang out with the big-shot Socs?"

The brunette raised an eyebrow in confusion at the words _'big-shot Socs'_. It wasn't a very common nickname, but after some thought Heather knew who Ponyboy was talking about. 'Big-shot Socs' was just another name for the popular Socs who attended, or used to attend, their school such as Cherry, Marcia, Paul, et cetera.

"To be honest, me and Cherry are only friends because we're both on the cheerleading team," admitted Heather. If she hadn't signed up to be on the cheerleading squad, they wouldn't have been acquainted with each other. "As for Marcia, I've spoken to her a few times when I'd hang out with Cherry, but we aren't exactly on good terms. She prefers to associate with purebred-Socs only."

Confusion was etched across Ponyboy's face. "What do you mean by '_purebred-Socs'_?"

"It's a very complicated thing to discuss." Heather bit the inside of her tongue and tried to find a place to start. "West Side Socs have their own little social system. It's not as serious as the greasers and Socs, but it is if you live on the West Side."

Heather continued as she played with her pen. "You're considered a purebred-Soc if both of your parents are Socs. Being a purebred-Soc pretty much means that you're the real deal. However, there are borderline-Socs. These are people whose parents consist of a Soc and a middle-classer. Because my father got remarried to a Soc, me and my younger brother are classified as borderline-Socs."

"Ain't _that_ a jolly thing to be a part of," Ponyboy commented sarcastically; trying to lighten the mood a bit.

Heather chuckled softly, so that she wouldn't attract any attention. "It ain't as bad as it seems. It's up to the people to decide whether you're a Social or a middle-classer. To a majority I'm a Soc; to the rest I'm just borderline. I've gotten used to it, but since my brother was born a borderline-Soc, he gets the short end of the stick…"

The brunette, trailed off as she felt ideas suddenly diving into her mind. The introduction for her essay was starting to form, and although it was still a blur, it was still good enough to jot down. Uncapping her pen, Heather began to write about her brother being a borderline-Soc and how it affected him. Her handwriting was sloppy, she had to admit, but she had to put everything down on paper before she forgot it.

Once she had a third of her outline written out, she cautiously turned to Ponyboy and smiled. If it weren't for him, she'd still be stuck on what to write about and would probably not get much accomplished. "Thanks, Ponyboy."

Ponyboy slightly lifted his head up in surprise. He looked around briefly, and when he noticed that no one was looking at them, he averted his attention towards her and smiled back.

For the first time since their silent _'don't look at each other'_ pact was made, they took the risk and broke it.

* * *

"Thanks for the ride home, Two-Bit." Ponyboy voiced his gratitude as he closed the passenger's door shut.

Two-Bit walked around his car and sauntered beside Ponyboy. "Anytime, kid."

Giving the younger a pat on the back, Two-Bit made his way to the Curtis house. Ponyboy followed suit and walked behind Two-Bit. As his destination approached, Ponyboy couldn't help but notice how peaceful his neighborhood was at this moment. It felt as though he had strolled into the wrong street, and if Two-Bit hadn't been with him at the moment, Ponyboy would've questioned if this was actually where he lived.

"Hey, Two-Bit," called out Ponyboy, even though said male was about a foot away from him. "Where'd Soda, Dally, Steve, an' Johnny go?"

"Steve and Sodapop are workin' overtime at DX," Two-Bit replied before continuing, "and Dally an' Johnny took off somewhere 'bout an hour ago."

By this time, both greasers were in front of the door. Kicking off the dirt under his boots, Two-Bit swiftly opened the Curtis' door and proceeded to make himself at home. This included the humorous greaser throwing himself onto the nearby sofa. Once Ponyboy entered the house, he could already hear Darry scolding Two-Bit. As he did so, Ponyboy was stuck wondering what his oldest brother was doing at home so early.

"Two-Bit, how many times do I have to keep tellin' you not to jump onto the couch?" Darry's voice boomed from the kitchen. "You're gonna break the darn thing."

"It's a miracle it ain't broken already, Ponyboy remarked, causing him to be playfully tackled onto the couch.

Hearing all of the ruckus that had been occurring in his living room, Darry strolled out of the kitchen and stared hopelessly at the two greasers in front of him. Too tired to tell them to stop, Darry let them be just this once. "Hey, Ponyboy. How's school?"

"It …was…ok," Ponyboy answered while he successfully escaped Two-Bit's grip. "What are you doin' here early, Darry?"

Darry placed the cloth he was holding over his shoulder and walked back into the kitchen. "A storm's 'spose to be passing by later. Stayin' there full time would result in me gettin' sick, and we can't afford that to happen."

Seeing that Two-Bit was occupying himself with the television, Ponyboy followed Darry into the kitchen to ask him a question. He had been putting Timothy's party invitation into deep consideration. Ponyboy wasn't really a party person, but Timothy was one of his _closest_ friends at school, so he felt that it would be cruel not to attend.

Upon entering the kitchen, Ponyboy spotted Darry picking out several different ingredients to cook. Although cooking wasn't Darry's forte, he still put a lot of effort into whatever he was making. That, although Ponyboy would never admit it, was something he admired about his oldest brother.

"Darry, can I ask you something?" the young greaser asked as he stood by the kitchen entrance.

The oldest Curtis momentarily stopped his movements. "Sure, Pony. Somethin' wrong?"

Ponyboy shook his head before anxiously asking, "I just wanted to know if…I could go to my friend Timothy's party this Friday?"

"I don't know, Ponyboy," Darry sighed as he leaned against the counter. "You know how hectic high school parties can get. I don't think you can handle it."

Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, Ponyboy continued to plead. "C'mon, Darry. It's just a 16th birthday celebration. And there'll be adults there."

"What about girls?" Darry sternly pressed on; it made Ponyboy want to give up right then and there.

"Timothy's twin sister is gonna take care of them."

After a few seconds of silence, Darry sighed and put a hand on Ponyboy's shoulder. "Alright, I guess you can go. But you better finish your homework 'fore you leave or you ain't goin' to another party 'till your walkin' on a cane."

Ponyboy nodded and smiled at his brother, who had a grin on his face. He was happy that Darry was slowly starting to trust him, as this was going to be Ponyboy's first time going to a party on his own. He knew Darry was still on the loop about letting him go to a party, when he had never met Timothy. Heard of him, yes, but physically see him, no. Noticing that Darry went back to cooking, Ponyboy was about to leave and complete his homework. But it was one question that left Two-Bit's mouth at that moment that led to a whole new game of pleading.

"Is there gonna be booze, Ponyboy?"

**A/N: Leave it up to Two-Bit to unintentially mess things up. Hope ya'll enjoyed the chapter! Please, review, favorite, et cetera. I enjoy reading them!**


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